Chapter 2

In the beginning Sophie tried not to get attached. They had said they would be back, after all. Whoever they were. Still, she had to care for the little thing, so she set about making it possible to do so.

She found a family with a milking goat they were willing to part with in exchange for her delivering the wife of a baby, and she brought the goat home and waited for the summons; the wife was close to her time, but it might be a couple of weeks yet. Clouts and blankets were quickly made from old petticoats and nightgowns: it was quite amazing how many times Ikhaya needed to be changed. Did all babies poop this much? Gerard found some old bottles left from when his kids were babes and gave them to her, as well as an old but serviceable cradle.

Those first few weeks were all a blur. She wasn’t sure how old Ikhaya was, but other mother’s guessed about four weeks. Surely four weeks old was old enough to sleep through the night, right? Sophie was lucky to get four. She rigged up a sling so she could carry the infant and leave her hands free while she did her chores, but she just couldn’t keep up with her work while taking care of the baby. How did people do this?

Still, she muddled through as best she could because what other choice did she have? She went through all of them in her darkest moments and then felt guilty afterward for even thinking about them. Abandon her. Walk away and not come back. Drop her off on someone else’s doorstep. Go to Weston and give her to the authorities. Take her to an orphanage. There were so many choices she could make and she ran through all of them in her sleep-deprived brain while tears coursed down her cheeks and Ikhaya cried for the fourth time in fifteen minutes, begging to be held or fed or changed. Afterall, the baby wasn’t hers. She hadn’t chosen this.

And yet. Something about those grey eyes held her captive. And that tiny brown hand tangling Sophie’s hair, holding on as she slept, safe and secure. And the grin that split that sweet face when Sophie made faces at her. There were so many moments of light amongst the dark and it was enough. Just.

It was during this time of adjustment and straddling the fence of love and hate when the scale tipping happened.

Sophie had just gotten Ikhaya down for the night and was looking forward to falling face down on her bed when there was a knock on the door.

“Shhhh,” she hissed. “I swear if whoever that is wakes the baby they will live a very short painful life.”

Her anger diminished slightly upon opening the door to find Leslie Miller standing on her stoop.

“Leslie! What a surprise.” Sophie opened the door wider and stepped out, closing it behind her. She might like Leslie, but she’d be damned if she let that baby wake up.

“Hello, Sophie,” Leslie smiled, as she greeted her, adjusting her shawl so she could give Sophie a hug. “I just wanted to stop in and see how you were doing.” Her glance at the closed door was all the explanation of what she was asking about.

Sophie grinned. Ok, so it was slightly feral, but it was a smile. “How kind.” There, that didn’t sound snarly at all. She was being damn civil. God, she was tired, she really had no real reason to be annoyed, but yet, here she was.

“Everyone is just really concerned,” Leslie continued, pulling out a covered container. Some kind of casserole by the smell of it. “Here, I made this for you. Babies are just so much work and I know how hard it is to get everything done.” Her tone implied that it was hard but she had managed to do everything. Sophie was suffering some kind of dissonance. Who was this woman and where had her friend gone? She had known Leslie for years, helped deliver her babies, had been in her wedding.

“Thank you. How kind.” She took the dish, and then waited.

Leslie cleared her throat, obviously having expected a more effusive thank you or an opening for more small talk. Sophie could see Leslie wanted to say something, and she had a feeling she didn’t want to hear it. She was right.

“Well, like I said, everyone is really worried about you.” Leslie smiled with false compassion. “Here you are out here all by yourself and with a baby!”

Sophie frowned at that, honestly confused. “ I was out here all by myself before and no one seemed worried.”

“Oh, well, of course. You are so independent and you are the best shot in town. Second best.” She said hastily, remembering how Sophie had lost to Leslie’s husband last spring. “But now you have the baby.”

“What on Earth does that that have to do with anything?” Sophie asked, exasperated.

“It’s just too big a job to do on your own!” Leslie replied, exasperated in turn. “Look at your fields, Sophie!” Leslie pointe unerringly and without looking at Sophie’s corn field, where remnants of stalks dried in the sun. Usually by this time of year, she had cleared it and turned the soil, to let it sit ready for winter plantings.

“Your corn field is still not cleared, why is mine worthy of conversation? What in the hell are you trying to say? Stop beating around the bush and just say it!” Her temper was well and truly piqued now; she could be sleeping but for this nonsense!

Leslie stood tall and said, as calmly as can be, “The council has voted. You can’t keep it.”

The first thing Sophie thought was that this is what it felt like to get punched in the gut. She struggled to get air that had seemed to have disappeared. Her stomach tightened so much she was afraid she would vomit right on Leslie’s perfectly polished shoes. And then she thought that would be vastly entertaining.

“Pardon?” Sophie forced herself to say just as calmly.

“The Council, Sophie! Honestly, what did you expect to happen? You’re not married, that isn’t your baby! It was given to you by strangers! One of them a non-human! And no one has skin that color, what if she’s dangerous?”

“She.Is.A.Baby,” Sophie said clearly, her rage burning, her eyes blazing. Leslie took a step back as if she had yelled, although she hadn’t. “She is a baby, Leslie! No different from you or I! And who gives a FUCK whether I’m married or not?!” Ok, maybe she was yelling a little.

“You said yourself that those people are coming back for it. You are endangering the whole village!”

Sophie took a deep breath. She had spent months knowing that someone would be returning for Ikhaya and actively trying not to love her, but now, faced with the idea of giving her up, she would kill anyone who touched her. That child was hers. She didn’t want her growing in a place as backwards as this, where the color of a person’s skin and the idea of a nonhuman created panic. Ikhaya would always be labeled something: bastard, different, strange. An outsider.

“When did they hold the meeting?” Sophie asked, her brain busy running through options.

“This morning.” Leslie replied, her face the epitome of sad concern. “Sophie, look, I’m you’re friend. I want what’s best for you!” She gave Sophie a small smile. “It’s always been the two of us, especially once your parents…” She broke off and reached out to lay a hand on Sophie’s shoulder.

Sophie felt her heart breaking. Memories flooded her, happy ones, sad ones, always with Leslie there to share or help. They had run the forest trails together, played pranks on other children together, shared a pillow during sleepovers while sharing the secrets all girls carry in their hearts. The warm hand on her arm offered comfort and aid, something that it had always offered.

“No.” Sophie whispered.

“What?” Leslie asked, taken aback.

“NO.” She said again, stronger. “I am not going to let you pretend you are doing this for MY sake. Leslie,” Sophie said in appeal, trying to make her understand. “I love her! Would you be able to give up your daughter?”

Leslie shook her head, seemingly honestly confused. “But she’s NOT your daughter! You’ve only had her for three months!” Sophie’s heart crumbled. Her true friend had truly turned on her.

“She’s MINE and I will not allow you to take her from me. How...how can you do this? Why, Leslie?” Sophie stepped back, breaking the physical connection and watched Leslie’s arm fall back to her side. Her eyes burned as she fought back tears.

“I need to think of my children, Sophie! How can you be so selfish?”

Sophie reeled back as if she’d been slapped. “Get off my land,” she said, as calmly as she could. She thrust that damn casserole into Leslie’s arms, ignoring Leslie’s shocked face. “Get off my land. Now. And take your false sympathy with you.”

Leslie stood in shock for a moment, then drew herself up. “I had hoped you’d be reasonable. I see I was wrong. The council has decided, Sophie. You can’t change that. They will come for it.”

“Off.My.Land.” Sophie said slowly and firmly, moving forward one step at each word, forcing Leslie off her porch. She forced herself to watch as Leslie shook her head sadly, turned and walked away into the evening. She stood there, watching, until every last trace of Leslie had disappeared into the darkness, every footstep had faded, and then she collapsed on the porch, hugging herself tightly, and crying, allowing all her pain to flow with her tears.

From inside, Ikhaya woke and began crying, wanting milk. Sophie sniffed, stood, scrubbed her face with her apron. She had choices to make and things to do and a baby who needed her. She could cry later. And with that, she turned resolutely and entered her home, composed and ready to face the future.

Next Chapter: Chapter 3: A home is found